


Taciturn

by symphorophilia (klismaphilia)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Injury, M/M, Necrophilia fantasy, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Fantasy, Silence Kink, Tumblr: kyluxhardkinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9432569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klismaphilia/pseuds/symphorophilia
Summary: Hux can't stop thinking about what it would be like to have him like that again: blood-stained, cold, silent and still.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fill for [this](http://kyluxhardkinks.tumblr.com/post/156242111990/hux-had-never-found-kylo-beautiful-until-he-was) prompt at kyluxhardkinks.
> 
> I saw this prompt and it was pretty much up my alley. Find me on tumblr [@symphorophilian.](http://www.symphorophilian.tumblr.com)

_ Hux’s footfalls echoed, worn heavy by the sound of packed-down ice, a husky strand of breath hanging in the air before him. His hands were stiff, balled tight into fists with the gloves sweat-slick inside. Stress had pooled in his gut, made him grow fatigued. Were it not for his own impending demise, he may have lingered, lain in the snow until his own skin grew cold, bruised and mottled. _

There was nothing more beautiful than silence.

Ren, however, was loud. A vocal and emotive lover, just as he appeared in his processions with officers and the Supreme Leader. Bowed before Hux, on his hands and knees, he was louder still, the imprint of bruises shading his broad hips not yet faded even as Hux continued to press him. 

Down and down, further into those sheets, a bright, everlasting crimson that was not yet red enough. Kylo took to bruising so well, but he was less pale now, more a sturdy rock, in need of brutalizing. Brutalizing, for a  _ cause.  _ Brutalizing for art.

_ So clearly.  _

_ He could see it so clearly, crouched atop Ren’s still, prostrate body, leaking brilliant trails of sharp alizarin, shades of varied red too long kept inside. Kylo was warm, somehow, though his clothes were tangled and froze to his skin. It was similar to a corpse, long dying yet incapable of drawing a final breath.  _

_ In this realm, Ren was spread on his back, his tattered black robes a pitch that was so contrasting against the white backdrop that he became a void. His eyes were fixed, shut, raven eyelashes dusting the pallor of his cheeks. Hux ran a finger over the plane of his chest-- up and up and up, tipped past the edge. Ren’s chest was defined, chiseled like some deity of old… it was the silhouette Hux had always admired on a man, though Ren was, perhaps, not a man. _

_ Not here.  _

_ Here, he belonged to Hux, a dying thing amidst a broken canvas of white. Slashed through the middle, scored in red-black-red-black-- _

“Hux-- H-haah, please, please, don’t stop. I’m so close-- so close, you’re so… so  _ perfect,  _ Hux, so--”

The General’s hips snapped, a swift, fluid movement of in and out, watching Kylo arch and keen, his hair a matted mess draped against his shoulders, the small of his back an indented curve, dimpled--

Exquisite. Though, perhaps, more exquisite had it been dipped once more in that brilliant scarlet, so well ordered and spread. Nudging Kylo’s legs further apart, Hux slid in to the hilt, buried himself deep,  _ moaned.  _ The whining ( _ incessant, bothersome words, no need for words, not here, not with us, grieving our loss)  _ continued to bombard him, cannons fired in the far distance.

Hux had preferred the snow. Ever so much.

_ He thought of what it would be like, to undress him, lie beside him with Ren’s backside flush to him. He would be so… so pallid, so bare. Carved into stone yet sparking with kyber crystals even more radiant than his lightsaber. Life’s force, life’s blood… a lesson for all of them, in the end. _

_ Hux longed to strip them, longed to be free, in this purgatory made only for them. A sanctuary for their proclivities, failures long past. Divine judgment, a judgment that would never befall them but leave them stranded, here, in-- _

_ \-- silence. _

_ White space, the space between spaces, so dead and eerie, the drift of wraith-words in the wind. Whispers in the whills, Hux’s own breath cast along Ren’s skin, pinking it as he-- _

Faster.

There was a memory, fleeting, a lingered kiss once he'd brought the Knight to safety and Ren had taken the chance to warm. A soft, memorable thing that Hux had hardly acquiesced to at the time, when he'd longed for so much more. Yet Ren had no words then, and he had let his mouth overtake his being, now. The constant speech, the constant _moaning,_ the unbridled _lust._

Armitage Hux has always tried to tell himself that this is the same, this... _pleasure,_ an intimacy between companions, partners and lovers. But even in bed, he is noiseless, and Kylo is ever so different from his fantasies.

Hux speeds his thrusts, the heat spiraling through his bony frame, an endless torrent of pure  _ red.  _ Red, surrounding them, encompassing him as he sinks teeth through Kylo’s back…

_ \--and here we are here we are no more-- _

… yanks rough on Kylo’s hair, a tight hold as Hux surrounds that large frame the best he can, tries to focus on the  _ warmth  _ of Ren, now against him…

\-- _ he’s cold inside too, dripping sweet with it, such lovely tang, blood so beautiful. Honey and liquor and  _ **_madness,_ ** **intoxicating.** _ Overwhelming sense, overwhelming reality. Thrusting in and out of that beautiful passage made for receiving, and Hux's own voice is muted on backdrop, the only remainder his thudding heartbeat, pounding. His chest, thud-thud-thud-thud, the chords of the world splitting in two, encompassing their eternity-- _

… and Hux comes. Comes, silently, sliding himself deep inside that wet hole, collapsing on Ren’s sweat slickened form, drowned in bliss and repulsion and  _ longing,  _ desiring something he could never have. If Ren can read his thoughts, he’s never said, and perhaps he wouldn’t want to. He is warm, of course, and real, and oh so loud, and--

“Are you relieved, General?”

_ Left longing, left needing, left to my own depraved mind, craving to split you open and crawl inside your skin. Pull you around me like a coat, I’d be safe there, forever… _

Hux’s hand slides down to the scarred section across Kylo’s stomach, a wound once open, yet half-cauterized by a lightsaber. The blood had stopped, then, but it was enough. Enough to  _ feel  _ him, from the inside, in the most demented way. Enough to curl his fingers deep and stretch, imagine Kylo’s intestines looped over his neck, imagine the blood lining Hux’s  _ pretty-soft  _ lips after he’d had his fill. He could keep Ren, then, always, keep him beautiful, if he was unconscious. If he was asleep, like in medbay, where Hux could watch him without fear.

Hux pinches the scar, lightly, nuzzles his face into Ren’s back, sighs. 

“You’re so…” He does not have the word. He wishes to say beautiful, yet he could never lie. Is it wrong to  _ desire _ , when he loves Ren so? When he  _ needs  _ this, and yet always knows it is not enough, when he longs for Ren to be silent, compliant, the way he always is in the back of Hux’s mind? The galaxy is a droning sonata, too overplayed…

Hux just wants it to be quiet.

That’s all he’s ever wanted, aside from his bloody Knight.

**Author's Note:**

> *nudges* if you enjoy necro kink this is pretty much my necro pseud and I have like four fics about it up right now and more I will hopefully post.


End file.
